Chapter 37 — What Remains After Light
For a moment, there was no sound.
No color. No form.
Only the slow, steady rhythm of breath returning to a world that had nearly stopped existing.
The distortion dissolved into motes of fading light. Each one carried the warmth of what Aira had felt — fear, hope, love — before vanishing into the quiet.
Rimuru stood at the center of it all, her eyes half-lidded, her aura flickering weakly. Cracks of faint red light trailed across her palm — fractures not of skin, but of self.
Ren knelt beside her, steadying her with a hand. "Hold still."
"Please," she murmured with a tired grin, "if I wanted help standing, I'd call you my chiropractor."
He ignored the joke, his silver energy weaving gently around the cracks in her arm, sealing them just enough to stop the glow. "You took too much of the distortion into yourself. That wasn't part of the plan."
Rimuru tilted her head, smiling faintly. "Since when do I follow plans?"
The light around them dimmed; the world shifted.
The frozen lake melted into sunlight, colors softening into gold and white. Aira's form, now free from the distortion, floated gently downward like a feather caught in still air.
Rimuru reached out, touching Aira's cheek as she stirred. "Time to wake up, dream girl."
---
Aira's Room — Early Morning
The first rays of dawn spilled through her curtains.
Aira blinked slowly, her heartbeat still echoing like it was out of sync with the world. Her bedsheets were damp with sweat, her pillow faintly warm against her cheek.
For a long moment, she couldn't remember how she'd gotten here. The last thing she recalled was walking home… and then — nothing.
Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand.
No new messages.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and froze.
There, on the desk, lay a single folded note. No name. No handwriting she recognized. Only two words, written in faint red ink:
> Still laughing.
Her heart skipped. "Rimuru…?"
But the room was empty. Only the quiet hum of morning and the faint scent of rain.
Aira pressed the note to her chest, exhaling shakily. "You're out there somewhere… aren't you?"
The air buzzed faintly, just once — like static brushing against her ear.
> "You really can't stay out of trouble, can you?"
The voice was distant but warm, threading through her thoughts like a half-remembered dream.
She smiled through her tears. "Guess I learned from the best."
---
Elsewhere — The Old District
Ren stood on the same rooftop where it had all begun. The skyline glowed pale in the morning light.
Behind him, the distortion's residue shimmered faintly before dissolving into the wind.
He looked toward the horizon, where the sunlight bent strangely — as if hiding something, someone.
"You can hear me, can't you?" he said quietly.
A ripple of laughter answered — soft, teasing, unmistakably Rimuru.
Ren sighed, almost smiling. "You're not done, are you?"
Her voice came like a whisper of color through the air.
> "Not yet. She's still dreaming… and I've still got a few jokes left."
The wind carried the last of the static away.
Ren closed his eyes, letting the silence settle. "Then I'll make sure she wakes up smiling."